


Getting to fifth base (and so much further)

by Beelzebub_fuckers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baseball, Cock Slut Dean Winchester, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Don't Judge Me, Double Penetration, Episode: s13e16 Scoobynatural, Gangbang, Happy Ending, I Blame Tumblr, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Locker Room, M/M, Minor League Baseball, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Logic, Possessive Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spitroasting, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beelzebub_fuckers/pseuds/Beelzebub_fuckers
Summary: Dean Winchester is on vacation. The boy deserves a break. He goes to see a baseball game with his time off and gets pulled into some pornagraphic shenanigans. Oh whatever is a Hunter to do?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Dean Winchester/The Cartwright Twins
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There isn’t enough Cartwright Twins porn for my tastes. And you know what they say. Be the change you want in the world. So let’s do it!

Dean was always a team player. Growing up in the family he did, isolated from everybody, he learned to rely on those close to him real quick. He was a self-sacrificing team player who always did whatever it took to make sure his companions got the best deal possible. But sometimes he had to do something for himself. 

Sammy was helping Bobby on a weekend hunt. Dean was out on vacation. And why not? He worked every week. No Christmas breaks or weekends off. He should be able to see a baseball game every once in a while. So here he was. Watching the Cartwright Twins play against the Springfield Cardinals. 

“Hey, this is a Canadian team right? Why are they playing in America?” Dean asked a guy sitting next to him. 

“Oh, they’re both minor league teams. Some Canadian teams are on the same league as American ones. We’re all on the same continent.” He explained. 

“Huh.” Dean said, looking back at his pamphlet. He had no idea who these guys were. Or what team to root for. He guessed he’d root for the Cardinals. They were Americans. From Missouri. Nice state, Missouri. They passed through it a lot driving place to place. Last year he and Sam had taken out a vampire nest in Jefferson City. Good times. Decent diners. 

The game progressed slowly. But Dean didn’t mind. He admired the sport of baseball. Any asshole could play soccer. And soccer players were wusses. Crying and falling all over the field clutching their shins. But baseball required specialized skills, fast reflexes, sprinting, and strength. They could be hunters, every one of them. Dean whistled in appreciation when the bat cracked against the ball. A clean hit. The ball soared through the stadium. 

Right towards him. 

Dean reached up and caught it. It landed in his hand hard, Dean wouldn’t lie, it smarted. Catching a traveling ball without a glove is bound to sting your palm. He transferred it to his other hand to shake out the tingling pain. As he did so he made eye contact with the hitter, a Cartwright Twin who grinned and waved to him. 

“Wow, good catch.” Said the guy beside him. His kid was jumping over his lap, oohing and aahing. Everyone seemed surprised. Dean suddenly remembered that most people didn’t have the quick reflexes and extraordinary pain tolerance of hunters. The average citizen couldn’t have caught a ball like that. He was drawing attention to himself. 

Damn it. 

“Yeah, I played as a kid.” He said aloud. Another skill of a hunter. Lying on the spot. 

The game progressed slowly. Dean twirled the ball in his hands as the points were counted progressively. The Cartwright Twins, as it turns out, were impressive players. Canadians or not, Dean appreciated their skill. They threw a damn fine ball. 

Dean bought himself some peanuts to eat while he watched the game. Why not? He was on vacation after all. Popped handfuls of toasted nuts in his mouth while the Cardinals ran the bases. They were fast, but not enough. A Cartwright Twin threw the ball at the third baseman. He caught it, and the Cardinal was out. 

Dean slowly forgot about his commitment to rooting for the Springfield Cardinals. He was a Cartwright boy now. 

In the end they won. There was a great deal of cheering and hand shaking. Dean smiled. This was a nice vacation. One where the outcome didn’t rely on his efforts. And the outcome didn’t start some world ending event. 

He filed out with the rest of the crowds. It wasn’t the fastest process. Everyone packed together on the narrow bleacher stairs. Dean got out and stepped into the concrete reception. Folding tables were set up along the hall where men were selling t-shirts and snow globes of the stadium they stood in. Food carts on wheels melted nacho cheese and sold hot dogs and cold sodas. Dean was sorely tempted by an icy coke. It wasn’t beer, but it would wash down the salt from those peanuts earlier. 

He slid a 5 dollar bill to the vendor, exchanging it for his coke. In a glass bottle and everything. Classy. He wrenched off the metal top and went to town on it, chugging half the contents instantly. 

“Hey, you’re the one who caught our ball.”

Dean lowered his coke to look at the player addressing him. The batter of the Cartwright Twins stood before him. His baseball uniform was stained with the sweat of the game, as was his dark brow. 

“Yeah.” He pulled the ball out of his pocket. “Here. If you want it back.”

“Nah, you can keep it. They’ve always got more balls in a baseball stadium.” The man said, reaching out instead for a handshake. “I’m Rich.”

“Dean.” He replied, accepting the firm shake. 

“Well, Dean, you wanna meet the boys? They were all impressed by your catch. No glove. I know from experience that hurts like a son of a gun. You didn’t even flinch.”

Dean grinned. “Pain tolerance. I’d love to meet the guys.”

“Yeah, I bet there’s a lot you can tolerate.” Rich said, sizing him up. “You’d make a decent player, with that build.”

“Maybe if I’d had the practice. My dad wasn’t much into team sports as a kid.” Never stayed in one place long enough to form connections or join teams. Never made friends. Besides, the time it would take to play baseball or football would cut into gun practice and looking after Sam. Dean didn’t have the time. 

“That’s a shame.” Rich guided him back down a set of concrete stairs, down to a door that said  _ authorized personnel only _ . He swung open the door easily. 

Slick tile and banging lockers greeted Dean. Inside baseball players were stripping out of their uniforms and stepping into the showers. Dean nearly felt awkward, an intruder in this space of naked men. But he’d been invited. Rich was by his side. 

“Fellas! This is Dean.” Rich clapped him on the back. 

“The ball catcher!” The first baseman said. “Nice catch. Very impressive.”

Dean sniggered at the words “the ball catcher.” But it was fine. Instead of the long-suffering “you’re a child” looks that Sam gave him whenever he laughed at something immature, the team was grinning with him. 

Or maybe at him. 

On second thought, Dean noticed their looks were downright predatory. Every player was sizing him up with lingering gazes. The hair on Dean’s arms stood up as he realized Rich’s hand had moved from his shoulder. Slipping down until it rested on the small of his back. 

Oh. 

“Shit, you’re pretty.” The pitcher purred between a lollipop in his mouth. “What’s your name again, baby?”

“Dean.” His reply sounded hoarse. But the pitcher just smiled. 

“Baby, my name’s Aaron. See, my team just won a good game. Hard working boys. We’re thinking about celebrating. Would you be interested in attending the celebration? It would really help us out.”

Dean was entranced by the candy in the pitcher’s mouth. Bright, glistening red candy flashed in the locker room lights as the pitcher smirked suggestively at Dean. Dean was dimly aware that he had stumbled onto some crazy porn level bullshit. But that cherry candy was truly enticing. Aaron was very attractive. Blue eyes and dark hair and stubble all over his chin. 

He bit his lip. “What can I do to help you boys?”

“We need someone athletic and pretty to help us out. We’re strong, so you’d need to be really resilient.” Again everyone was sizing him up, and Dean got the feeling that they’d decided he’d measured up. “Don’t worry. We’ll be very safe and considerate.” Aaron gestured to an open locker. Dean glanced and yep. That was a plastic basket full of condoms. He’d definitely walked into a porno. This is somehow not the strangest thing that had happened to Dean in his life. Hell, not even this year. God, hunting was a fucked up job. “Whatdya say, Dean?”

He should say no. 

He should really say no. 

But Dean had been through some... conflicting feelings lately. Things in contrast with what he’d been taught growing up. What his father wanted him to be. It had been happening for a while but the feelings were only intensified by his companions. Dean took in Aaron’s appearance again. He was confident, cocky even. With a sexy slouch and a little grin and candy sticking out of his mouth. But Dean could imagine a sterner face. A straighter posture and a trench coat draped over those broad shoulders. He felt a brief flash of guilt at the thought. There are about a million reasons why he should just walk out of the locker room. Right now. 

But he didn’t want to. 

“Condoms aren’t going to do it. You better have some kind of lube.” Dean heard himself saying. 

Aaron smiled. He held up a small tub of Vaseline. “We have this.”

Was that good enough? Dean hadn’t done this before. All he knew was from the few times he’d done this with women. The idea of being on the receiving end was a little daunting. “I think that will work.” He said, unsure. 

“Hey, that doesn’t have to be the only thing you use. You can slick us up beforehand if you want.” 

God damn it. He really was about to do some porn-level shit. 

Dean dropped to his knees. The tile was damp from the water droplets that had been shed from men coming out of the shower. The denim of his jeans were wet with it. Aaron carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

“You look pretty good down there.” He told Dean. The praise did Dean no favors in the shameful arousal department. “You sure about this?”

Was he? “Yeah.”

“Alright boys, gather round. Dean agreed to help us out.” The sound of clinking belt buckles and dropping towels filled the room. “Say thank you.”

“Thanks, Dean. You’re a real pal.” The first baseman said and  _ wow _ he was packing. Dean’s mouth watered in anticipation. He tried not to think about the fact that his mouth watered at the sight of a dick. He swallowed quickly and opened his mouth. Here goes nothing. 

The baseman slid in with no hesitation to the cheering of his teammates. Aaron the pitcher was unbuckling Dean’s belt and pulling open the front of his jeans for him. Dean breathed hard through his nose as Aaron wrapped a Vaseline-slick hand around his dick. 

He didn’t have much time to adjust. As soon as it started everything was kicked into high gear. Dean did his best to suckle while the baseman rocked his hips against Dean’s face. 

“Hey, ease up.” Aaron said to his teammate. “Relax, Dean. We’re going to make this as easy for you as possible. Pull your lips over your teeth. That’s it. Relax your throat and work your tongue. You know how you like your cock sucked. Think back. What do you want done to you?”

Dean knew. He curled his tongue against the bottom side of the shaft and nuzzled his nose into curls of damp public hair. 

“That’s it.” A man said above him. “He sure is cute.”

“Yeah, good job. Rich.”

Dean blocked them out. There was only Aaron now, pressed against his back, working a firm fist over his dick. The weight of a cock invading his throat. Warm breath on the back of his ear. Dean groaned. A baseball calloused thumb swiped over the head of his sex, pulling the fluid down over his shaft. 

“Good, good.” Aaron whispered.

He was right. It was good. 

He was really working it now. Swallowing the head with little hesitation. There was no shyness anymore. Just the straightforward single-mindedness of a dedicated hunter focused on the task before him. The baseman groaned throatily above him. He grabbed Dean’s short cropped hair to move him along. Dean gagged at the speed which his throat was suddenly and shockingly occupied by cock. His breath rattled past the obstruction in his throat. He groaned at the way the muscle flexed around him. Rolled his hips up against his Dean’s face until the curls of his pubes brushed his nose. 

Dean’s mind buzzed with a light-headed kind of pleasure. All of the muscles in his body slowly started to relax. “Oh, he’s got a sub space.” Rich said, kneeling beside them. “That’s a fun little surprise.”

The baseman was gaining momentum. Thrusting into his mouth like he was entitled to. Dean’s idle hands flailed about for a moment before settling on the thighs of the man before him. Gripping his pants like they were the chain that tethered him to reality. His throat made wet noises as the baseman passed through it. Hot tears fell onto Dean’s lap as he gagged around him. Aaron was still whispering hot into his ear. Twisting his hand around Dean’s dick all the while. Intense pleasure made Dean lose his motor control. His hips bucked suddenly. Jolting his whole body. The baseman twisted his fist in Dean’s hair to keep him still. 

“You’re such a good boy.” Aaron hissed as Dean got his mouth fucked. “You’re taking it like a champ. Go on, you can cum if you want. Or not. This is going to go on for quite a while. You wouldn’t want to get overwhelmed and quit before it gets good, do you?” 

It was already good for Dean. He could only imagine what they had in store for him. Aaron’s senseless dirty talk was cut off when the baseman’s dick dragged across Dean’s soft palette. Tongue curled around his shaft in the most perfect way. The baseman uncurled his fingers from Dmitri’s dark hair. He tugged his cock suddenly from Dean’s mouth and jerked his now free hand over his dick quickly. In five short strokes he was cumming over Dean’s face with a shout. Dean flushed when he felt cum land on his cheeks. 

He coughed several times, every breath rattled with the thick mucus that clung to his throat. Dean was barely allowed to catch his breath before the next baseman was stepping up. 

“You look  _ great _ , Dean.” The baseman said. “My name’s Bill. I’m gonna stick my cock in your mouth now.”

“By all means.” Dean replied. His voice was raspy from the abuse his throat had withstood, but nobody seemed to mind. 

“Atta boy.” Bill slipped his dick in. It slipped wet over Dean’s saliva-slick lips. He was short and thick. He didn’t quite reach Dean’s throat, but his jaw had to stretch to fit the shaft in. Bill fucked Dean’s face with jackhammer thrusts. There was no pubic hair to tickle Dean’s nose, but the shaved down stubble scraped his chin. Aaron kissed along Dean’s neck while he continued to work his hand on Dean. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life. His breath hitched frequently in his throat, the muscles in his back bunched up, pressure was building and building, his nuts  _ hurt _ they were drawn up so tight. 

“Let go, sweetie. There’s time to cum again.”

Aaron bit down, right where Dean’s neck curved into his shoulder, sucking what Dean could only imagine was one hell of a hickey into his skin. 

Dean did, shouting all the while. His jaw ached stretched on Bill’s dick and his face hurt from how his hips were snapping onto it. Dean’s cum splattered on the tile of the locker room floor. 

Bill wasn’t far behind. Dean closed his eyes and let his mouth hang open while Bill pulled out and came over his waiting face. 

Another cock slid in before Dean could ever lick the last guy’s cum off his lips. Aaron stood to rinse his hands off in the sink nearby while Dean sucked yet another cock. 

“Hey, help me out here. I can’t wait anymore.”

Dean glanced into the periphery of his vision to see another guy standing with his dick out. The angry pulsing organ stood out against the pale skin and blond pubic hair. It really did look painful. Dean wrapped a hand around it to handle it while he worked on the cock he was sucking at the moment. 

“Well, come on fellas. Leave your marks on him.” Aaron said. 

Oh, there were marks on him alright. Dean’s face was dripping with cum at this point. But obviously there was more to come. 

Bill and the baseman got down on their knees behind Dean and began nibbling at his neck. 

“See, Dean. We have a tradition for guys we get to do this. You get a mark from each of us. A little trophy for you, to showcase all the hard work you’ve done tonight. You should be walking out of here with 25 hickeys. Not all on your neck, necessarily. Some of the guys may, ah, choose somewhere more discreet. Some may want to show off, put it where everyone can see it.” Rich explained. 

Dean’s nerves nearly melted at the thought. Hell  _ yes _ he wanted that. Bill and the baseman sucked hard at his neck on either side, worrying the sensitive skin with their teeth. His dick was already making an admirable effort to get up again in light of this new stimulation. Dean made several undignified noises. Cum splattered on Dean’s face again. 

But instead of moving away to let the next guy have his turn the guy in front of him dropped down to eye level. He was handsome. Tanned, with red hair and a very nice beard. He hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Dean’s jeans. 

“May I?”

“Go ahead.” Dean affirmed. 

With his permission Jack, so said his Jersey, pulled Dean’s jeans off. Boxers and all. His legs were splayed over the wet tile floor, and Dean imagined how Sammy would complain about the unsanitary floor. Yeah right. He’d already had... how many cocks in his mouth? He’d lost count. He just wanted more at this point. The point was Dean wasn’t a germaphobe. 

But there was no more time to think about germs or pants or the tiles he was sitting on anymore because Jack was lifting his legs up, bringing one thigh to his mouth, and  biting the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. 

Dean moaned, and Jack gripped his legs tighter to keep them still because Dean’s whole body was trembling something fierce. His dick was filling up with blood again now, the stimulation of his neck being ravaged and his thigh bit into was overwhelming. His toes curled in as he attempted to control his volume. 

Jack pulled away, his lips red with blood. “Alright. Now it’s your turn, Harry.”

“Great! Open up, doll.”

Dean gladly let Harry into his mouth. His jaw was aching like a bitch, but hell if Dean was going to quit now. Nothing short of a bullet could stop him now. He knew the drill now. Hollow out his cheeks, cover his teeth, pull his tongue along the shaft while they fucked his throat. He gagged at the intrusion and loved it. 

“Yeah, Dean!” Harry groaned. “Take it. Fuck!”

Take it he did. It was strange. He was being used like a whore in a porno, yet Dean had never felt more in control of himself in his life. He was being used, but he got to control the terms of his use. They asked to remove his clothes, asked to fuck his throat, asked him what he wanted. When was the last time someone asked what he wanted? He was used as a pawn in angel wars, as a guardian for Sammy, as a soldier for his father. But now he got to use his body for his own means. And damn if it didn’t feel good. He suddenly understood what women meant by sex being an empowering thing. Sucking dick, as it turned out, was super empowering for Dean. Go figure. 

Harry came buckets over his face. Seriously, Dean expected it to stop, but it kept going and going. His eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes shut as cum dripped down on his eyelids. 

“Wow. Guess you were pent up.” Dean said conversationally. 

“You have no idea, baby.” Harry kissed his wet lips. “Thanks for that. Lemme give you your hickey.”

“Mhmm.” He agreed. Harry chose his pec, just above his right nipple. No biting, just a nice red suck mark. He slapped Dean’s thigh as he stood. 

“What do you say we move on, boys?” Aaron shook the tub of Vaseline. 

“That sounds like a great idea.” The left field player agreed. “Can I have the first turn, then?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay with Dean.”

Dean sized up the left field player, Mark, his jersey said. Tall, dark skinned, and muscular. He looked strong, all of them did, but him especially so. Dean worried that Mark might break him in half. Why was that idea weirdly exciting to him?

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.” He said. Never let anybody say Dean Winchester backs down from a challenge. 

“Let’s get you ready then.” Mark lifted him from the floor and began carrying him off towards the sinks. Dean let himself be manhandled. He was turned around and pushed over the farthest sink. The one closest to the showers. 

Dean was shocked by his face in the mirror. Dark bite marks and hickeys colored his neck purple in patches. His face was red from exertion. His forehead shone from sweat. His hair was plastered to it in the front, towards the back it stuck up in strange patches. Probably from being pulled on. Lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His face was tacky with cum. It clung to his eyelashes and coated his cheeks, it laid in his hair. The only thing that cut through it were the tear tracks. He looked absolutely  _ wrecked _ . 

A strangled groan escaped him as a slick finger worked into him. His body tensed in impulse. He needed to relax, he knew that. Luckily Mark was trying to help him out. He waited for Dean to adjust. Petting down his back like a scared cat. Dean appreciated the concern. This was probably the most polite gang bang he’d ever been to. He giggled deliriously. Focus, Dean. Relax. 

He did, and Mark continued. Pushing his finger in gently, questing around for something. What the hell was he doing? Dean wiggled uncertainly. Whatever it was Dean was sure that–

“OH GOD!” 

“Found it.” Mark announced triumphantly. 

Electric stimulation had Dean gripping the porcelain basin of the sink he was leaning on like he’d die if he let go. He would never admit to mewling and whining, but that’s what exactly he did. Rocking back onto the awesome sensation of Mark’s magic fingers. 

“That’s your prostate. Ever had an exam?” Mark asked. 

“Hell no.” Dean breathed. 

“You should. Prostate health is very important. But I can tell you that it feels all good down here.”

“Congratulations on a healthy prostate, Dean.” Rich said. All the other baseball players were crowded around the sink to watch Dean’s ass stretch. 

“Thanks, I pride myself on- fuuuuck.” Dean’s head rolled back. “That’s incredible.”

Dean’s breath misted the mirror in front of him so that he could no longer see his cum-sticky face. His fingers were sore from how hard he held the sink. Mark worked two more fingers inside of Dean. He was wet with Vaseline and ready to take something bigger. Much bigger if Dean were to guess by Mark’s bulge pressing into the back of his leg. 

“Alright, baby.” Mark said as he pulled his fingers out. “Relax for me. Aaron, fetch a condom.”

“Already gotcha.” Aaron slapped a condom down into Mark’s hand. Dean listened to the foil tear open and the latex snapping over Mark’s length. His thighs trembled in anticipation. Mark was slicking himself up with Vaseline. Dean was about to lose his virginity in a baseball locker room. His head spun with excitement. He took a deep breath as the blunt head of Mark’s cock pressed against him. 

It wasn’t anything like he expected. A dull stretch, one that had all the air Dean had been holding escaping his lungs. Mark wrapped his hands over Dean’s shoulders and used it as leverage to pull him down onto his waiting cock. 

“Holy...” he was enormous. Dean panted, his hands finally letting go of the sink to reach back and grab any part of Mark he could reach. 

“It’s okay, take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Mark punctuated his sentence with a shallow rock of his hips. A movement that had Dean shuddering. He could feel  _ everything _ inside of him. He thought he would burst with all the tension inside of him. He needed to release that tension. Otherwise he was going to end up hurting himself and  _ that _ wasn’t very sexy. He took several deep breaths. Mark was still holding his shoulders. But the other players were giving him gentle caresses. Jack kissed his cheek. Everyone was whispering encouragement to him. 

“Okay, you can move.” Dean finally said. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, pretty sure.” Dean glanced over his shoulder. Mark smiled at him, and Dean returned it. 

Dean’s breath fell into irregularity once again as Mark started pumping his hips. He didn’t go straight in like a piston, which Dean appreciated. But there was no mitigating his size. Dean pressed his face against the mirror and groaned. Sparks of pleasure raced up his spine when Mark dragged over his prostate, which was constantly. His size made it so that he was touching basically  everything inside of Dean at all times. All Dean could do was cling to his sides as Mark fucked him. 

Little moans and gasps fell out of his mouth. All at once Dean’s knees buckled and failed under him. Mark wrapped a thick arm around his chest, holding him up. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Dean chanted. His words were perfectly timed with every hard thrust. Every echoing slap of wet skin. Mark groaned, latching his teeth into the back of Dean’s neck. Dean screamed as his skin was broken again. 

With a deep push Mark was cumming. He pulled away pretty soon after, handing Dean off to another man. Another condom was opened. He was spun around by his shoulders, coming face to face with the man. 

“I’m Anthony.” He introduced himself. 

“Hey, Anthony.” Dean said. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Anthony hauled Dean’s legs up, coming just above his hips. “Go ahead and wrap those around me, sweetie.” Dean complied instantly. Anthony wrapped his arms around Dean, holding him close, the only part of him touching anything was the small of his back, pressed against the edge of the sink. The rest was held up by Anthony’s strength alone. Anthony pushed inside Dean. 

Dean’s mouth fell open with a loud moan. Anthony gave Dean a thrilling smile. Anthony was a very pretty man. Delicate features and sparkling blue eyes the color of sea glass with stubble that made him look rugged. But he also had probably the longest cock Dean had taken so far. It seriously felt like it was touching Dean’s bellybutton. Dean moaned again. 

Anthony fucked slow, which was good because if he fucked like a jackhammer Dean thought he might dislodge something. Jesus Christ, his cock was big. 

Dean came all over his stomach as Anthony worked him over. And he gave Dean another dazzling smile. “What a good boy. Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

The sounds Dean made were obscene. He felt filthy in the best way. His nails dug tracks in Anthony’s back while Anthony’s cock dug tracks in his ass. 

Anthony nuzzled up right under Dean’s jaw and sucked a deep bruise into sensitive skin. “Beautiful.” Anthony whispered. 

Dean wasn’t sure if he could get it up again, but he had a good feeling about it. Especially if the sex continued to be so damn good. Anthony’s dick made his muscles feel warm and sluggish with pleasure. He pressed his face into Anthony’s shoulder with a little sigh. He wanted it to go on forever and ever. 

But then Anthony was filling his condom. He set Dean down gently and kissed his sweaty forehead. “Thanks, baby.”

Another man stepped up. He had curly black hair and big grey eyes. Dean noted with some amusement that he was uncircumcised. Now novel. He rolled a condom over his penis. Just as protected as the rest of them. Dean ran a finger over his tattoo, a little cowboy. Dean felt a warm affection. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. 

“Douglass.” He pushed inside of Dean. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I think we’re more than aquatinted by now.” Dean joked, looking down to where Douglass disappeared inside of him. 

Douglass smirked. “I suppose we are.”

It was a satisfying fuck. Douglass was polite enough to stroke Dean’s cock while he fucked him. But he was enough of a bastard to keep his fist loose and teasing. Making Dean riled up for more without delivering any real satisfaction. Dean bucked into his fist the best he could, but Douglass had a pretty tight hold on his hips. He wasn’t going anywhere. Dean groaned, just accepting whatever the bastard had to give him. Dean’s eyes fall closed as Douglass fucks him. 

This earns him a stinging slap on his flank. Dean yelps, startled. “What was that for?!”

“Keep your eyes on me.” Douglass demanded. 

Damn, if that didn’t make Dean hot. He was going to cum. If Douglass ever allowed him. He wasn’t sure if that thought was arousing or irritating. Maybe a little of both. Maybe the irritation was part of what turned him on. 

Douglass kissed Dean’s bicep, pretty close to where Cas’ handprint had been when he came back from hell. That’s where he left his hickey. Dean knew Douglass didn’t know, couldn’t know the implications. But it had Dean choking on his arousal, shoving a fist in his mouth to smother his whines. Precum smeared his abdomen as Douglass finished his hickey. He smirked in satisfaction. 

“That’s a good boy.” He said to Dean as he came inside of him.

He allowed Douglass to step away. Dean was trembling again, barely holding himself up on the sink. 

“Hey, do you want to lay down?” Mark asked. 

“Yeah, that would be great.” Dean said gratefully. “Where can we do that?”

“Is the bench okay.”

“As long as it’s a vertically surface I can rest on.” 

“Alright. Let’s lay him down, boys.”

The Cartwright Twins carried him over to a little wooden bench. One of those ones they have in locker rooms, no back, no armrests, just a nice flat surface for Dean to be fucked on. They set him down on his back gently rather than tossing him down. 

“Thanks guys.” Dean said. “You’re being really nice about this.”

“Of course, baby. You’re doing us a real favor here.” Mark said. He tossed Dean a plastic bottle. “Hydrate first. You’re going to be doing a lot of exercise.”

They really were so nice about it. Must be the Canadian part. Dean couldn’t imagine a better gang bang. He chugged the bottle quickly. Hydrated and ready to go. 

“Actually, do you mind being spit roasted?”

Dean wouldn’t mind anything at this point. He loved his life. “Hell yeah.”

“There’s the team spirit.” Rich turned him over onto his stomach. “Hand me the Vaseline.”

Dean sighed gratefully as Rich slicked him up again. Then he was pressing in. Rich had a nice average cock. A perfect break from the monsters he’d been dealing with thus far. He was going to be sore for days. 

Another man came up his head, cradling his chin in his palm. “Open up, baby.” Of course he did. 

The second dick slid into place, and Dean was filled on either end. It was like fulfilling a fantasy he’d never known he had. Once again his cock was aching and hard against the edge of the bench. But Dean was ignoring it. Lost in the stimulation of being fucked on both ends. Cum sprayed over his back, which is when he noticed people were jerking off while he did his work. Of course they were. He was fucking hot. Dean felt a surge of confidence. 

He fell into a rhythm. Condoms fell into the garbage by the sink and people switched out often. It was a never ending parade of dicks all around him. The locker room reeked of sex. It was filled with the din of slapping skin. Sweat poured down Dean’s face. Sweat and other things. Sometimes they came down his throat. Most times they seemed to prefer marking up his pretty face. And the  _ hickeys _ . Bruises blossomed over his ribs and hips, bites all across his neck and shoulders. His thighs were marked. Dean yelped as one of them bit his ass. 

“Come on sweetie. Suck gentle, that’s it.” Hands pushed soothingly through his hair. Spit dribbled down his chin. He was a mess. He’d been a mess for probably hours now. How long had he’d been doing this? His jaw was numb from overuse. He was probably going to have a tension headache in the morning. He didn’t care. He rolled his tongue as best he could. 

Sometimes they kissed him. Pulled their dicks out of his mouth, came on his face, cupped his face in their hands and kissed him sweetly. Dean would blush then, because for some reason being kissed was the embarrassing part of all this. He loved it. He loved the attention. Sam always did say he was begging for attention. Well lookie here. He found a great source of it. 

Then Dean was on top. One of the men was lying beneath him, and Dean straddled him, riding him like a god damn cowboy. Dean was delighted by the new discovery of his prostate. He got plenty of time to explore it while he was on top. Here he could set the pace and lean back, stroking the leaking head of this guy’s cock over the spot that had him shaking in ecstasy. Raking his nails down washboard abs and moaning like a whore. 

“Yeah!” He shouted, cumming again over those perfect abs.

“You’ve only got a few more, Dean. Do you think you can handle John?”

“What’s special about John?” Dean asked. 

“He fucks hard. And fast, like a rabbit. It’s a bit of a challenge, but I think you might enjoy it.”

“I never shy away from challenges.” Dean said. “I’ve got a GED and a give em hell attitude.”

The team laughed. “I can see that. John, you’re up.”

John was a skinny guy. Skinny compared to the others at least. Lean but muscular with a decent size between his legs. “Can you roll over, Dean?”

“For you? Sure.” Dean rolled onto his back and settled in with his legs spread. John didn’t hesitate to throw them over his shoulders so Dean was splayed wide. Then John was sliding in, eased by Vaseline and the looseness of all the men who’d gone before him. 

Their description paled in comparison to what John could do. Dean screamed as John fucked him. And he wasn’t even ashamed to admit it. His brain short circuited with stimulation. His body was jostled on the bench. If it hadn’t been bolted down John would probably be fucking it across the room. As it was the legs and bolts rattled ominously. Dean’s hands gripped the edges of the bench for dear life as his breath was brutally fucked out of him. He could  feel his eyes rolling back in his head. He could swore he might have felt himself cum, but it all blended in with all that was happening to him. Half pain, all pleasure. His hips were numb from being fucked so hard. 

After John came Dean was left panting, sweaty, and completely dazed. “You okay, doll?”

“Oh my god.” Dean whispered. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. John can be intense.”

“I have no regrets.” Dean managed. The Cartwright Twins laughed at that. 

“I’m honestly impressed.” John said. “He didn’t piss himself. Good for him.”

“I didn’t?” Dean asked, because it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if he did. 

“No.” Mark assured him. “But you did cum. Congratulations. Are you up for another round?”

“Yes.”

It was a fantastic night. Dean lost count of how many times they went at him. He was tugged about and pulled into any position they wanted. He was fucked like a doll, hanging from the arms of different baseball players and bringing each of them the satisfaction they craved. His muscles burned from exertion, but he felt a bone-deep satisfaction. Really, he couldn’t have asked for a better vacation. Dean let the waves of sensation roll over him. 

And at the end of it all the Cartwright Twins were there to help him recover. 

“Are you okay, Dean?” Anthony asked. 

“Never better.” He croaked. His voice was completely destroyed. He’d shouted and fucked his throat raw. That wasn’t the only thing fucked raw. He’d been packed with Vaseline like a canon. A groan escaped him. 

“We’ve got you.” Bill said comfortingly. The baseball players carried his loose body to the showers. Rich was already there, adjusting the water temperature. 

“Alright. It’s good. Tell me if it’s too hot, Dean.”

“It’s perfect.” He sighed. The scalding water soothed his sore muscles. Mark held him up while the team hosed him down. Rich washed the cum from Dean’s face and hair. The others pried apart his legs to wash his thighs and ass. It was nice. Being taken care of. 

“You’re the nicest guys I’ve ever met.” Dean drawled. “I’m gonna have to come back sometime.”

They laughed at that. “We’ll be happy to have you again.”

“For sure.” Dean didn’t know if he’d ever go on vacation again. His life was always so fucking crazy. But if he ever did the Cartwright Twins baseball game would be the first thing he did. 

They washed him down and dried him with clean towels and helped him into his clothes and his boots. 

John laid a kiss on Dean’s cheek. “Thanks again, Dean. It was a lot of fun.”

“Anytime. I’ve gotta get back to my hotel. I’m probably going to sleep like I’m dead.” Dean admitted. 

“You deserve it. Take care of yourself.”

“I always do. See ya around.”

A chorus of “bye Dean” went up and then Dean was gone. The locker room door swung behind him and closed. 

Dean could barely walk. Staggering out of the baseball stadium into the cool evening air. The sky was indigo, mosquitoes whined in the air, and Dean slid into the leather seats of the Impala with a hiss of discomfort.  Damn . He couldn’t just go back to his motel room like this. He needed to drop by a convenience store and get some frozen vegetables. Maybe some hydrocortisone. Definitely some NyQuil. But damn if it wasn’t worth it. That was the best thing Dean can remember happening to him. He needed to go on vacation more often. 

And more baseball games. Definitely more baseball games. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Dean, did you fuck a baseball team?”

Dean was shocked by Castiel, angel of the lord, saying  _ fuck _ . Castiel rarely swore. Certainly never with such contempt. Dean didn’t even know what to say. ‘Yes?’ He’d never told anyone about what really happened in that locker room. He’d mentioned it in passing a couple of times, relying on the fact that people always made the assumption that the Cartwright Twins were some smoking hot pair of blond sisters. What really happened that day stayed a secret between him and the real Cartwright Twins. Dean’s mouth hung open, fluttering uselessly as his brain struggled to formulate a good lie. 

Not that lying to an angel was a good idea to begin with. Castiel could see inside his head. He could read his thoughts as easily as a newspaper. Skimming the bold headline.  _ Dean Winchester: baseball whore! _ Probably reading the whole dirty article too. Dean could remember as clear as day being railed over that little rickety bench. He could remember sucking two dozen dicks. Anything he could remember Castiel could see in his mind. There was no hiding from him. 

Castiel looked pissed. Nervous energy boiled inside of Dean. He didn’t see that look on Cas often, and when he did it meant he was about to be thrown against a damn wall and have his shit kicked in. 

“So what?!” Dean shouted. “What business is my sex life to you? Get off your high horse.”

“Isn’t it my business?” Cas asked coldly. “You did it, at least in part, because of carnal desire you harbor for me.”

Dean’s brain short circuited at that point. Again was the instinct to lie. But Cas had already seen it in his brain. Denial is what Winchesters did best though, and Dean was a dumbass. “No I didn’t.” 

Castiel made long, angry strides towards Dean. Ah, here it comes. The part where Dean got his ass beat. 

Dean got grabbed by the front of his jacket, just as expected. And thrown right through his bedroom door. Castiel slammed the door behind them.

“Hey!” Dean snapped. 

“No more.” Cas said. “No more baseball teams. No more semi-truck drivers. No more amateur magicians.”

Dean blushed. That magician was a particularly embarrassing hookup that ended up with a permanent ban from the Rainforest Cafe. Dean didn’t particularly care about the Rainforest Cafe. But he’d go back to hell before he ever admitted out loud that he fucked an amateur magician in a Rainforest Cafe. 

“Those men aren’t replacements for what you want. They please you in the moment but leave you with regret and shame.” Castiel stalked closer, backing Dean against the wall. “You would not be ashamed to be with me.”

Dean honestly couldn’t believe it. “Are you jealous?” 

“I am.” Castiel admitted easily. “Jealous that my friend debased himself with strange, unscrupulous men rather than take what he pleased from me.”

“Are you slut shaming me?” 

“Have you been acting like a slut?” 

Dean wanted to say no. Just on principle. But allowing himself to be caught sucking dick in a Rainforest Cafe, a place he would never be under any other circumstance, was slutty. Taking dick over a truck stop urinal was slutty. Getting gang banged by a baseball team was pretty much the height of slutty. 

“I will give you what you want. If you say yes. I know what you’ve been craving. I would be much better than any Cartwright Twin or magician could ever be.” 

The funny thing is that Dean totally believed that. Castiel was often oblivious and painfully easy to take advantage of, but when it came to physical tasks Castiel showed his full competency. Dean’s memory returned to a mere two minutes ago, being thrown effortlessly into his own room. 

He licked his lips. 

Castiel’s sharp blue eyes followed the movement critically. 

Castiel grabbed Dean again. Tossing him once again, this time straight onto Dean’s bed. Dean’s breath was knocked out on impact, but he wasn’t exactly helpless. If he was down for the count every time someone knocked him on his ass he’d have been dead long ago. He laid there because he wanted to. Because the sight of Castiel prowling towards him, crawling over his body on all fours like a predator was hot. Because he wanted Cas to make good on his promises. Cas knew it too. There was no way he wasn’t reading his mind right now. He felt Dean’s desire as distinctly as he did. It was why he didn’t hesitate to tear Dean out of his clothes. Even without verbal confirmation Dean was helping Cas to get him out of his clothes. He undid his belt while Cas discarded his leather jacket. The cool, stale air of the bunker stung his heated skin. 

Dean reached over and snagged the bottle of lube sitting atop his bedside table. He didn’t keep it in the drawer. Fuck that. This was his space and he treated it as such. He shoved it towards Castiel. Cas examined it, looking between the bottle and Dean. It was an encouragement to go further and they both knew it. But Cas had the decency to not say anything. He took the bottle from Dean. 

The  _ snick _ of the cap flicking open in the silent room had Dean’s dick throbbing in Pavlovian reaction. Cas wet his fingers. His face was stern as it always was, but his body had a tense quality. While Dean would usually say that was a part of his unnaturally perfect posture and the huge stick up his ass, the trembling wasn’t. 

Cas nudged Dean’s thighs apart with his elbows. Dean obliged, settling further into the bed and planting his feet on either side of Castiel. Dean watched impatiently while those bony fingers disappeared between his legs.

They slid in easily. Cas was talking again. His rumbling voice washed over Dean while he relaxed into the touch. “This is what you really wanted.” Castiel’s lips said into Dean’s collarbone. He left kisses as he pleased. Dean cursed as Cas’ fingers twisted within him. 

Castiel was searching. Dean could feel him gently massaging along the muscular lining looking for the place that would make Dean melt. His mouth wasn’t idle, nor was his other hand. His free hand was busily exploring Dean’s body. His thumbnail dipped between the creases of Dean’s muscles. His mouth was sealed around his pec, busily sucking away to make a mark on Dean’s tanned skin. It didn’t take him long to find the prostate. Dean secretly thought Cas knew where it had been all along. He’d put Dean’s body together, after all. He knew it intimately, and his care was showing now. He was just trying to tease him. 

There was no more teasing now. Cas kissed Dean deep while his fingers stretched him. Their lips and teeth clashed painfully. Dean ignored the pain in his desperation to kiss Castiel. He’d been dreaming about it for years, and it certainly held up to his expectations. Cas’ mouth didn’t taste like anything in particular. But it was hot. The permanent stubble that adorned Cas’ chin scraped across his jaw while tongue invaded his mouth. Dean panted into the kiss while Cas fucked him with clever fingers. Cas’ hand left Dean’s bicep where it had wandered to cup the back of Dean’s head, tilting it into a favorable position. 

Finally their kiss settled into something comfortable. The bumping noses and clacking teeth ceased. Their lips slotted together comfortably and Dean moaned as Cas stroked his inner lip with his tongue. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders. It was a perfect kiss. Made better by the sparks of pleasure he got from the steady prostate stimulation. 

But gentle, steady touches got more aggressive. Dean was on the edge of blowing his load already. Dean’s breath hissed through his nostrils. The muscles in his back twisted as Cas rubbed little circles into his prostate. “Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_. ” He chanted. “Cas!”

“Twenty five men.” Castiel said. “Twenty five men on the Cartwright Twins baseball team. You certainly enjoyed your experience. I’m glad they treated you well, truly.” 

Cas did a funny little thing with his fingers that had Dean’s breath stuttering as it passed his lips. “I can please you more than twenty five men.” Castiel promised darkly. “I can please you more than a hundred men. I may not be twenty five baseball players. But those men aren’t me. I know your body. I know your mind and soul. Even if they treated you well and hydrated you they didn’t care for you the same way I did. They didn’t rebel for you. They didn’t give up their home and family. They will not love you like I did. So I think they did not satisfy you as much as I will when I’m through with you.”

“ _ Jesus _ .” Dean breathed. 

“You are mine.” Cas was pulling away his trench coat, loosening his tie, and with each article of clothing removed he got bolder. 

He wanted to be. He wanted to be owned by Cas the way he promised. That unleashed desire had Dean pushing his legs over Cas’ hips. Cas leaned over, using his leverage to bend Dean in half. His arms were hooked under Dean’s legs, keeping them stretched back against his sides. It left his feet hanging in the air. He was spread so wide, so open that he might have panicked with the vulnerability. But Cas was over him. Crowding into his space and caging him in. The illusion of cover gave Dean a sense of safety. He was protected by the looming angel. Even so his body was trembling with unbroken tension. 

“Relax.” Cas demanded. His voice was still hard edges and monotone expression, but the fingers that carded through Dean’s hair were gentle. He eased Dean into compliance with affection. Stroking his cheek with his thumb, quietly demonstrating deep breaths so that Dean would take them himself, and kissing his brow so softly that Dean couldn’t help but melt. 

Cas felt the tension bleed from Dean, choosing that moment to push in. With the way Dean was splayed open against his pelvis and the relaxation he’d been lulled into, it was a easy thrust. Smooth all the way in. 

A strangled little sigh made its way out of Dean’s mouth. His head tilted back as he reveled in the new sensations. Cas was deep. Dean’s pelvis was tilted up, Cas bearing down with all his weight, which drove his dick so far into Dean that it wasn’t even funny. Still he was crowded by Castiel, still cupping his face in his hands and whispering to him. Cas was right. The Cartwright Twins weren’t nearly as satisfying as this. 

The thought nearly brought Dean to tears, making broken noises while Cas started in on really fucking him. 

It suddenly registered that Dean couldn’t understand what Cas was saying. He was whispering reverent words in an ancient language. He could have been saying anything. But the wide, wondrous eyes made Dean think that they were probably the most beautiful declarations of love that Enochian could offer. 

Or just “your ass is so tight Dean. I love fucking you.” That could also be it. Either one would satisfy Dean. 

Cas continued to mutter nonsense into Dean’s neck, kissing along the rough skin where he’d neglected to shave yet. Biting gently and sucking hickeys all across his jaw and shoulders. 

“Sam’s gonna see.” Dean managed to groan between grit teeth. 

“Let him see.” Castiel growled. “Let everyone see. That’s the point, isn’t it? To let everyone know that you are mine to cherish.”

Cherish. What a word choice. Dean’s eyes rolled back in his skull as Cas’ leaking cock head dragged over his prostate. If this is what it meant to be cherished Dean was glad to be owned. 

Damn, Cas was good at this. Dean was completely unable to discern the sweet talk Castiel was currently whispering to him. Unable to focus on anything but Cas’ cock. Not that anyone would blame him. There was a lot to focus on. It overwhelmed the senses. Whenever Dean had slept with men and women before it had been a kind of violent race towards orgasm. Dean wasn’t complaining. It was fulfilling in its own way. But this new experience knocked all of that out of the park. The relaxed, fulfilling way that Dean’s orgasm slowly coiled inside of him. He could bask in sensation at his own pace. It–

He couldn’t finish the thought. Cas hooked his thumb under Dean’s jaw and pulled him in for another kiss. Every roll of Cas’ hips was smooth and purposeful. He hit Dean’s prostate like it was his only job in the universe. Dean tasted salt in the kiss, realizing with some embarrassment that he was probably crying from how good it was. Dean groaned, squeezing Cas’ hips with his thighs to urge him on. Cas wrapped a hand around Dean’s dick, stroking it just enough to sate his frankly ridiculous desperation. 

Castiel shouldn’t be this good at sex. That was just wrong. Dean shouldn’t fall apart into little whimpers when Castiel ground down hard. When he spread Dean’s legs wider to have better access. He wasn’t supposed to grab the sheets and beg to be fucked harder. It just wasn’t right. 

Dean didn’t have to worry any longer about how unfair it was that Castiel was a fucking sex god because he was cumming already. Dean gasped in surprise as the coil of pleasure that had been steadily building for a while now suddenly snapped. He shook and grit his teeth and groaned. His legs were trembling where they were suspended in the air, a sight that would make Dean cringe if his eyes weren’t rolling back in his skull at the moment. 

Castiel didn’t falter in rocking Dean through his orgasm. His face was still as steady and stern as it always was, but Dean saw a twinkle of gratification in his eyes. He supposed he could let him have that. Dean understood the pride that came from having a partner cum like that all too well. His calves cramped from how hard his toes were curled and  _ finally  _ he stopped cumming. 

“Come on, come  _ on _ , Cas. I can take it.” Dean urged. 

“I know you can.” Castiel said, letting Dean’s legs fall to the bed. “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met. You can take me.”

Dean couldn’t decide if he was being patronized. But Cas was so sincere about everything, Dean decided this was just Cas’ way of affirming him. He let Castiel roll him over onto his stomach. Castiel let him stretch his aching spine and settle in comfortably before spreading Dean’s legs once again. The two men sighed as Castiel slid in once again. 

Castiel slides an arm under Dean around his middle and holds him close to his chest. The slide of his back against Cas’ chest has all of his neurons firing. Cas does something that Dean can only describe as rutting. Short, grinding thrusts that barely pull Castiel’s cock out. Dean pushes his face into the pillow and moans as loud as he wants to. Cas was pressing him into sweat soaked sheets and having his way with him. Dean couldn’t remember ever being so satisfied in his life. 

Pressed up against Cas like he was Dean could feel the way Castiel’s abs were spasming. Felt the hot breath against his neck. Feel as Castiel’s perfect control slipped just a little. If Dean was to guess, and it was an educated guess, Castiel was about to cum. The thought of it had Dean rolling his hips back as much as he could. 

“Yes.” Dean sighed. 

“Yes?”

“Yes!” He shouted. He threw his head back onto Castiel’s shoulder, out of the pillow so Cas could hear him. “Cas, do it.”

Thank god Cas didn’t ask for clarification. Dean was well beyond complex sentences at that point. He had just enough energy to shout obscenities into the pillow as Castiel pounded hard into him. Finally Cas was just being selfish, using Dean’s body the way he liked it. Dean could taste the sweat on his tongue. Feel the sharp parts of Cas’ hipbones colliding with him on every thrust. Castiel’s fingers are digging into his belly hard enough to bruise him, little cuts where his fingernails wound the skin. 

He was dizzy by the time Cas came inside of him. Cas groaned in his ear deep and sexy. Then it was over. Dean hissed when Cas pulled out. He reflexively tried to clench down on the cum that was leaking out of him, but he was too loose and sated for his muscles to do their damn job at the moment. So Dean sunk into the mattress and just about passed out. He was dimly aware of Castiel using his angel mojo to scour them of sweat and lube and the hot cum that dripped down his thighs. 

Cas dropped wordlessly onto the bed beside Dean. His angel mojo hadn’t cleaned everything up. Dean could still feel the ache in his neck where a dark hickey undoubtedly stained his skin. Cas left his claim. 

“So.” Dean finally said. 

“So.” Cas repeated. 

“We’re doing that again?” 

“That was my plan.” Castiel admitted. 

“Great.” Dean agreed. “Wake me up for round two in a couple hours. Daddy’s gotta get his beauty rest.”

Castiel clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner. “You are insatiable.”

“We’ll see about that.”

They smiled together. Cas wrapped an arm around Dean as he settled in to sleep with him. “I suppose we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what y’all thought! Hope this is goo, honestly I don’t know if I’m being too critical or if I just spent too much time looking over my drafts but I’m not even confident this story is good. Sound off whatever you think


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